A Brief Lesson
by I Boudicca I
Summary: Russia asks Lithuania to teach him to kiss.  Lithuania knows better, but somehow he ends up doing it anyway.


_Originally posted to the Kinkmeme._

Russia was sprawled on the floor in front of the couch, laughing so hard that tears rolled down his cheeks. Lithuania, sitting on the couch with his knees tucked up against his chest, was nowhere near as drunk, so he knew it wasn't _that _funny, but he couldn't help chuckling himself - besides, Lithuania reflected, watching the big man laughing, it was rare to see Russia actually happy about something that wasn't kind of awful. Rare and good. A happy Russia was much easier to be around than the alternative, and besides... in spite of everything - and it was a lot to overlook - Russia deserved some happiness. He could be a very twisted bastard sometimes, but Lithuania had known him long enough that it was hard to think of Russia's cruelty without also thinking of the cruelty Russia himself had suffered. He was certainly not a good man, but it wasn't his fault.

Russia's laughter finally faded and he clumsily wiped off his face. Lithuania took another swig out of the latest bottle of vodka, carefully setting it down out of Russia's reach. If he passed out, Lithuania doubted he'd be able to carry him upstairs, and he would feel guilty leaving him to sleep on the floor.

"Litva," Russia said, rolling his head lazily to face Lithuania. "Tell me something..."

"Something?" Lithuania couldn't help giggling a bit. "Uh... It's Saturday. It's cold outside. You're tall. My sweater's green - "

Russia smiled at his joke but didn't start laughing again. "Not _anything_. Something."

Lithuania tipped his head at Russia, curious.

"A long time ago - a _long_ time ago. When I was just, ah -" he raised an arm, gestured vaguely, "just small, I saw you. And Poland."

Lithuania hesitated. His history with Poland, especially the parts of it that involved Russia, was ...complicated, and not something he was eager to talk about, especially now when Russia was so... not broken.

Russia, oblivious to Lithuania's reaction, went on with his rambling question. "After you made Sweden leave. And you were celebrating victory and Poland kissed you very much, and you got very red."

"Yes?" Lithuania finally prompted, when Russia didn't continue.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

Russia rolled onto his side to face Lithuania, with the sort of careless ease that the truly drunk enjoy. "Why did he kiss you?"

Lithuania felt his cheeks color. "You know he and I used to... be together."

"Da, I know," Russia nodded seriously. "But why a kiss? Why does being together mean he kisses you?" He smirked, his seriousness from a moment ago forgotten. "There are lots of countries that have been one with Russia and no one has kissed me!" Evidently he found this humorous.

"Really? No one?" Lithuania was surprised and drunk enough to remark without hesitation.

"Nyet. No kisses. Is good, really - I would not even know how." He gave an exaggerated shrug and flopped onto his back.

"Not Ukraine?"

"Nmh. Big sister, she's like a mother to me - she took care of me when I was small, maybe she kisses my forehead but there is a difference."

Lithuania swallowed. Even his bellyful of vodka couldn't make him bring her up without hesitation, but curiosity overcame him. "Belarus?"

Russia snorted. "She does not do _that_. Hmm. Well, maybe when I am sleeping, but I hope not."

After a few moments of quiet, and without any apparent provocation, Russia began giggling. "Litva, you know. You should show me."

"Show you...?"

"How to kiss. Why you kiss. You used to kiss Poland, so you know. You should show me." He gazed at Lithuania, smiling with fondness and innocence - and for once, real innocence, not that mockery of it he wore so often.

Lithuania stood abruptly, moved across the room to put another log onto the fire. He lingered at the fire, with his back to the room, for as long as he thought he could without Russia noticing. He _couldn't_.

Right?

Maybe if he acted like it hadn't even been said, Russia would forget about it._ He probably won't even remember tonight at all_, Lithuania told himself.

As he moved past Russia to return to the couch, he tried not to look at him, not to see _that look_ on his face.

Russia giggled and wrapped his fingers around Lithuania's ankle as he walked by. "Nice socks."

Lithuania glanced down at his feet. They were - striped in the colors of his flag. Poland had given them to him - they were still close, even though they weren't together anymore. Lithuania bent down, gently pried Russia's fingers off of his ankle.

Russia closed his cool fingers around Lithuania's. "You're warm," he murmured.

Lithuania met Russia's eyes. _Don't _-. Wide and violet, almost childlike.

Lithuania sighed. _Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it._ He sat down next to Russia, bent over, and kissed him.

Russia's lips were soft, dry but not cold as Lithuania had thought they might be. He let the tip of his tongue just brush against Russia's lips before he pulled away, face warm and heart pounding at having done something that he so obviously should not do. That must be the reason.

Russia beamed at him. "It's nice!"

"Yeah," he mumbled, looking away. Seeing Russia like this - pleasant, gentle, almost _vulnerable_ - was confusing. Overwhelming.

"Let me try?" Russia asked, awkwardly pulling himself to a sitting position. With absurd, endearing clumsiness, he kissed Lithuania, his nose bumping into Lithuania's.

"Softer - don't pucker your lips," Lithuania told him, feeling too embarrassed and strange about this to meet Russia's eyes. "And tilt your head a little."

Russia nodded earnestly, and tried again. His lips were still too tense but he managed to avoid colliding with Lithuania's nose this time.

Lithuania's fingers fidgeted uncomfortably during the kiss. Awkward as it was, Russia was getting enough right to give him a vague, tingly sensation over the surface of his body that he hadn't felt in a very long time. He sat back and took a deep breath, wishing he wasn't so aware of how fast his heart was beating.

"No good? Show me again..." Russia implored guilelessly.

With another slow breath, Lithuania leaned in to kiss Russia again. Russia seemed to know how to respond to a kiss even if he didn't know how to give one, with his lips slacker and slightly parted.

Lithuania slid his tongue against Russia's lips gently, and here, too, Russia's instincts served him - he separated his lips in response, letting Lithuania's tongue slip into his mouth.

He felt Russia's tongue brush against his, and pressed his mouth harder against Russia's to encourage him. He could feel the throb of his heartbeat throughout his body - pounding through his neck and chest and increasingly hard to ignore at his groin.

He broke the kiss, met Russia's eyes although he really didn't want to. Russia's expression was so - so open, so exposed, Lithuania felt as if he'd walked in on him naked. Or worse. Like he could see more than just his skin, but his guts and his blood and his bones. It was strange, wrong-feeling, to see Russia that way, but it tugged at him, irresistible.

"Litva," Russia breathed.

Lithuania squeezed his eyes shut. "I have to go to bed now," he said urgently, pulling away, on his feet before he opened his eyes again. He couldn't look down at Russia, couldn't see him like that any more or ... or he didn't know what, but he couldn't, couldn't. He hurried from the room, dared to look back - but not at Russia, just in his general direction - to beseech "Please don't sleep on the floor." He hurried away before Russia could respond.


End file.
